


Games We Play

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Community: fanfic_bakeoff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Wyatt gets the feeling Doc's not just talking about cards.<br/>Disclaimer:  No, no, no, never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Games We Play

“Clue me in, Wyatt,” Doc said, Southern charm oozing from his voice like honey. I knew just how fast that charm could turn to something far more deadly, and paid Doc more than half my mind. “When did you realize that Miss Josephine should be yours?”

The game we were playing was poker, at least, that’s what it’d started out being. With Doc playing, even if it was just the two of us, maybe especially because it was just the two of us, I was never sure what we’d wind up with. He had a way of getting under my skin, prying things out I’d rather keep close to my vest.

“I don’t rightly know.” I tossed a pair of cards – deuce and a five – onto the pile and dealt myself two. “When did you decide that about Kate?”

Doc’s smile was quick, barely there and gone as he studied the cards in his hand, picked up a stack of chips and threw them into the pot. “Why, Wyatt,” he drawled, “you know Kate and I have an exclusive arrangement.” He looked up from the cards then, reaching for his ever-present tin cup and pouring himself a tipple without letting go of his hand. “However, if she wants to travel to Bixby for a bit, who am I to stop her?”

He was referring to Kate’s leaving on this morning’s stage, after what I’d heard had been a row the night before. Those two fought like the North and the South, sometimes, but made it up to each other eventually.

Doc leaned forward, a cat smile on his face. “That doesn’t mean I’ll take the opportunity to have another woman warm my bed while she’d gone.”

And that was just like Doc, a shiv cutting deep and gone, and I felt my face heat. Still, it didn’t do to let Doc rile me. “If that’s what you think,” I told him, and lay my hand on the table. “Two pair, eights and kings.”

He chuckled. “Wyatt, sometimes I believe you’ll learn to play this game.” Tossing his hand, he waved me to take the pot.

Somehow, I didn’t think he was talking about cards.

X X X


End file.
